A Post Race Celebration Surprise

On Sunday morning I told Tom during my pre race breakfast, "This isn't business. It's personal." I knew that yesterday's race was a very important part of my healing journey. I'm usually very much out there in social media land and in real life but before the race, I felt that I had a piece of soul work to do and suddenly felt this intense need for privacy. I thought that today's race was something I had to do alone even though of course Tom would be with me stride for stride.

I didn't post on Facebook before we left for the race. I turned inward.

But the horse was already out of the barn and I was stunned when Race Director Alain Ferry greeted me with an extended hug of support and wanted to know about my PR intention for the day. He looked deep into my eyes when we were talking and wanted to know why I chose 47:00 minutes for my PR. He said, "Well I hope when you get back here the clock says 47:00 minutes or better." I had no idea Alain had taken my challenge to his heart.

I decided to check in on Facebook and right before gun time, my friend Jess posted a note of support and encouragement. I turned inward again getting focused on my goal. It touched my heart to feel her love and support. I've seen how Jess gets people through their races with her heart and lending her energy when the tank seems to be empty.

When Alain rode up on his bicycle and said, "Oh there you are," Tom and I both said that we thought he was just coming out to check on the back of the packers and walkers still out on the course.

When he turned around I realized he came out looking for me to cheer me onto the finish.

As the runner's fog cleared from those final minutes of my race, I remember Alain on his bike riding along in front of us cheering me on. "Come on Mary. You can do this," and counting down the time.

In that moment I realized that even though this was a deeply personal moment for me, I am/was and have never been alone on this journey. There was a crowd gathered who were cheering me on. The energy, love and support drew me to the finish line along with my own fierceness to dig deep and reach my goal.

As we were hydrating and enjoying a post race orange with sticky hands...

"Hi Mary. I'm Phil Lipof from WCVB," he said extending his hand in greeting.

I was somewhat taken aback and apologized for not being able to shake his hand...

He smiled and said, "Oh no worries. Alain just told me your story and I am so inspired by you. I would like to share your story right before the awards ceremony if that's okay with you. I'm a reporter so I need to get the story from you."

I told him about my journey with polio and post polio and how I'd stopped running after my nephew's suicide. Alain had told him how the Boston Marathon bombings and the #onerun got me back on the roads so we picked up the story from there.

We snapped this photo:



He told me what he was going to say never telling me that this was going to happen:



He got me. He understood my challenge even though we'd talked for oh maybe 5 minutes. I felt so honored and celebrated but this is not just about me. This is about celebrating what is possible and the ability of us all to not only survive but to thrive as we meet challenges head on. It's about having the courage to start and to start over and over again and putting it all on the line to see what we are made of.

Alain told me that it was a very special moment for him as a race director to look at me and see me begin to cry as I was coming into the finish and then see this look come over my face of sheer determination as I dug deep to meet the challenge of the PR I had set for myself. My husband Tom, Phil, Alain, Bill Rodgers and the people I was blessed to meet yesterday gave me so many special and unexpected moments that will now fuel my journey.

What an incredible surprise to have a post race celebration filled with love and joy so that others could hear my message of healing, hope and possibility.



"Coming Home: A Memoir of Healing, Hope and Possibility" is now available on Amazon.



"Wait, I have one more goal," Mary McManus told her personal trainer in February of 2008 shortly after coming out of her toe up leg brace. "I want to run the Boston Marathon for Spaulding Rehab Hospital." Mary traded in her polio shoes for running shoes and embarked on the journey of a lifetime. Mary McManus was at the height of her career as a VA social worker when she was told by her team at Spaulding Rehabilitation Hospital’s International Rehab Center for Polio in December of 2006 that she needed to quit her job if she had any hope of preventing the progression of post polio syndrome, a progressive neuromuscular disease. In “Coming Home: A Memoir of Healing, Hope and Possibility” Mary takes you on her seven year healing odyssey as a survivor of paralytic polio and trauma from her diagnosis, to taking a leap of faith to leave her award winning career at the VA to heal her life and follow her passion as a poet and writer. You’ll experience her trials, tribulations and triumphs as she trains for and crosses the finish line of the 2009 Boston Marathon and discovers the opportunity for healing in the wake of new trauma: the suicide of her nephew in 2011, and the aftermath of the 2013 Boston Marathon bombings. This is Mary's journey of coming home to her human form free from the influences of the ghastly ghostly invaders who had invaded her sacred earthly home. Her memoir includes journals and blog posts from her seven year healing odyssey. This is her journey of transformation and her message of healing, hope and possibility.

I donate 50% of royalty payments through on line sales to The One Fund to help Boston Marathon survivors and their families. Copies are also available at Brookline Marathon Sports. $5 of each book sold at Marathon Sports is donated to The One Fund.

It's More Than a Race....

I've been mulling over in my mind, what is it about Sunday's race that seems to have so much emotion for me. Why did I choose this race to aim for a PR?

My friend Bonnie posted this to my wall on Facebook last night:



It all came together for me. The last time I heard J Alain Ferry at the start of a race was on 5/25/13.

From my memoir:
5/25/13

The moving pre-race ceremony began including 30 seconds of silence for those who lost their lives in the bombings. There was music and inspirational speeches and not a dry eye in the crowd as the church choir from where 8-year-old Martin Richard who was killed in the blast, made his first communion, sang the National Anthem. Tom and I had our arms around each other. Everyone was in a spiritual embrace.

And then we were off crossing the one mile to go marker in Kenmore Square where four years ago, Tom, our daughter Ruth Anne and I ran toward the finish line. I ran the 2009 Boston Marathon for those who couldn't and for those who were told they shouldn't run or would never be able to run again. Back then I was delivering a message of healing, hope and possibility. Today I was one with the survivors knowing they have a long road ahead for them but knowing that they, like me, would be able to go the distance.

We got to Hereford Street and I took a deep breath, as I knew we were going back to the Mandarin Oriental Hotel and passing The Forum where the second bomb exploded. As we passed in front of the Mandarin, we stopped for a brief moment to give our thanks to the staff who ensured our safety. The two doormen who had been there on Marathon Monday while we watched the race before going upstairs to join the Spaulding Rehab party were there. How healing and wonderful to see them, express our gratitude and be back on a part of Boylston Street I was afraid to visit.

I told Tom I was ready to sprint to the finish line. I said a prayer as we ran by The Forum. I sobbed as the crowds were cheering and we were surrounded by runners with their bib numbers from Marathon Monday and thousands of people who had been touched by the tragic events of April 15. At the finish line we shared stories with one another. We hugged. We cried. We healed.

Despite the cold and the rain, the love and energy of the community kept us warm. The event organizers did an amazing job at honoring the victims of the bombing and the survivors – “You are out there to run for those who can’t.”

That’s why I ran the marathon in ’09 – and here I was running the last mile with a deep connection to the survivors of the bombing knowing in every fiber of my being what it’s like to work to regain mobility and to recover from trauma where you face death. There were so many emotions as we listened to the pre-race ceremony speakers and then as we reclaimed Boylston Street as our own.

As I look back on it, I remember how hard it was for me to run. I pushed myself though. It was the first time I ran since September of 2011. I could hear my body ask me, “Who do you think you are, Bill Rodgers?” Take it easy! You haven’t run in a very long time."

I "just happened" to meet Alain at Heartbreak Hill Half Marathon Festival Weekend. He invited me to Sunday's race giving me post cards to spread the word about the event.

Returning to the roads with the #onerun, I realized how important it was for me to get back to running and the running community. I knew how important it was for me to find my way back to myself after my nephew's suicide and taking a detour on my healing path.

I am so blessed that I was able to let go of people and practices that were not supporting me on my healing journey and found my way to the healing path I am now on.

Sunday's race is to benefit Prostate Cancer. We are all survivors of something in this life we live. I have nothing to prove yet I have everything to prove to myself. I've worked hard to get back to running and to experience the fullness of my body while living with the late effects of paralytic polio and healing in the wake of 9 years of violence as a child and teenager.

I am running not just for myself on Sunday but for all those who were told they couldn't, shouldn't or for whatever reason, cannot run right now. I know what a gift it is to go full out when the gun goes off and see what this body can do.

And while it may be just be a small 5K race on a Sunday afternoon at Boston College, for me, it's so much more than a race.



I chronicle the first 7 years of my healing journey as a survivor of paralytic polio and trauma in my memoir, "Coming Home:A Memoir of Healing, Hope and Possibility" available along with all of my books on Amazon. I donate 50% of royalty payments to The One Fund to benefit survivors of 4/15/13.

Present-Give Yourself the Gift of Peace

It's still a week and a half away and my chatter and nervousness begins about running the Bill Rodgers 5K Run and 14th Annual Walk for Prostate Cancer. I notice it and then I lovingly tell myself to come back to the present. I love Bill Rodgers who I have had the pleasure of meeting several times at the Hyannis Marathon Race Expo.



I know it's an all ages, all abilities race. I know the Race Director, J. Alain Ferry of RaceMenu from when we worked Bib Pick Up at the Runner's World Heartbreak Hill Half Marathon Festival Weekend. He is the one who invited me to the race.

I have absolutely nothing to worry about as long as I stay in the present moment.

We can all get caught up in the past and worry about the future. We tend to have this mental habit of remembering and sticking with thoughts and perceptions of a negative experience. For me and running a race, there are quiet echoes of when I was in a long leg brace after contracting paralytic polio trying to keep up with my peers and feeling so different and isolated from my friends.

But now I run with the pack; even if I am in the back of the pack. It is an inaugural race so I don't know how fast the field will be and it doesn't matter. I imagine myself dead last watching the pack of runners take off in front of me and I can be totally okay with that. I can allow myself to become excited about the race. The course is practically in my backyard and one that Tom and I have run more times than I can remember. There is nothing like the thrill of crossing a starting line, leaving nothing on the roads and then crossing the finish line.

I love Amby Burfoot's quote about winning:


Coincidentally, Amby and Bill were roommates and it was Amby who helped to train Bill in endurance running.

And another one of my favorite quotes from John "The Penguin" Bingham: "What distinguishes those of us at the starting line from those of us on the couch is that we learn through running to take what the days gives us, what our body will allow us, and what our will can tolerate."

So rather than allow those nervous thoughts to dominate, I breathe and come back to the present. I tap into my own feelings of empowerment knowing that no matter what the finisher's clock may say, I will make the race my personal best. I will celebrate and enjoy what is. I am reprogramming my thoughts even as I write this.

I repeat my new healing mantra, "I have all the energy I need to do whatever it is I need and want to do." I repeat my old healing mantra from Emile Coue of "Every day in every way I'm getting better and better."

I come back to the present and give myself the gift of peace.

Presence

Presents
gifts of awakening and awareness
come in the oddest of boxes
illness
old age
death
presence always presenting
opportunities
for transformation
the physical body
an illusion really
yet necessary
if we are to experience the fullness of life
the journey is the destination
being present
receiving all the gifts that presence presents.



"Coming Home: A Memoir of Healing, Hope and Possibility" is now available on Amazon.



"Wait, I have one more goal," Mary McManus told her personal trainer in February of 2008 shortly after coming out of her toe up leg brace. "I want to run the Boston Marathon for Spaulding Rehab Hospital." Mary traded in her polio shoes for running shoes and embarked on the journey of a lifetime. Mary McManus was at the height of her career as a VA social worker when she was told by her team at Spaulding Rehabilitation Hospital’s International Rehab Center for Polio in December of 2006 that she needed to quit her job if she had any hope of preventing the progression of post polio syndrome, a progressive neuromuscular disease. In “Coming Home: A Memoir of Healing, Hope and Possibility” Mary takes you on her seven year healing odyssey as a survivor of paralytic polio and trauma from her diagnosis, to taking a leap of faith to leave her award winning career at the VA to heal her life and follow her passion as a poet and writer. You’ll experience her trials, tribulations and triumphs as she trains for and crosses the finish line of the 2009 Boston Marathon and discovers the opportunity for healing in the wake of new trauma: the suicide of her nephew in 2011, and the aftermath of the 2013 Boston Marathon bombings. This is Mary's journey of coming home to her human form free from the influences of the ghastly ghostly invaders who had invaded her sacred earthly home. Her memoir includes journals and blog posts from her seven year healing odyssey. This is her journey of transformation and her message of healing, hope and possibility.

I donate 50% of royalty payments through on line sales to The One Fund to help Boston Marathon survivors and their families. Copies are also available at Brookline Marathon Sports. $5 of each book sold at Marathon Sports is donated to The One Fund.